


somebody to you

by sysupportgroup



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Childhood Friends, M/M, Minor Kim Mingyu/Xu Ming Hao | The8, Non-Linear Narrative, Past Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Xu Ming Hao | The8, Unreliable Narrator, to some extent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 06:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19987612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sysupportgroup/pseuds/sysupportgroup
Summary: No matter how much romcom drivel the media spouts, Soonyoung knows for a fact that childhood friends more often drift apart than end up together.Seems like Wonwoo never got the message.





	somebody to you

**Author's Note:**

> title from somebody to you by the vamps, and fuelled through the writing process by this fanvid [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Soeg48U9xWE)

"...introduce my son! He's Wonwoo's age though a little bit more of a troublemaker than I can handle sometimes, don't let him scare you though Wonwoo-yah - Soonyoung! Soonyoung-ah! Would you come here for a second?"

Soonyoung pauses, looking longingly at the music program airing on television. He doesn't _wanna_ go but by the time his mother hollers out his name again in _that_ tone, he knows to hop off the couch and scamper to the front door to avoid a spanking later.

"Soonyoung, there you are!" His mother stretches a hand out towards him, enfolding his chubby one in hers as he plasters himself to his mother's leg, peering curiously at the boy and his mum standing in their doorway. He hasn't seen them before, "This is Aunty Jeon and this is her son, Wonwoo. He's your age."

Soonyoung leans forward, detaching himself from his mother's leg to get a better look. The boy's shorter than him, kinda weedy looking with round eyes poking out from the top of the book he's holding. It's actually all he can see of Wonwoo's face actually - the book's pretty big. Soonyoung's _definitely_ never tried to read something that thick before and that in itself is enough to cement Wonwoo as the smartest boy he knows.

"Are you actually reading that?" Soonyoung asks, fascinated. The boy shuffles backwards a little, eyes bugging out, book going up to cover more of his face. Soonyoung's mother sighs and tugs a little on his arm to bring him back to her side.

"Stop scaring him, Soonyoungie." She gives the other mother an embarrassed smile, "Sorry about that, he gets very excited sometimes."

"It's okay," Aunty Jeon laughs, ruffling Wonwoo's hair. A curly strand pokes out from the side of his head and Soonyoung wants to touch it, "Wonwoo needs to come out of his shell a little anyways. Why don't you tell Soonyoungie about your book honey?"

With the expectant gazes of both mothers looking down at him, Wonwoo seems to be even more intimidated. He opens his mouth - or Soonyoung thinks he does anyways, the sound is so _small_ \- and Soonyoung tries to listen (he really does!) but all he can make out is something about fairytales and morals whatever those are. Wonwoo seems to really like the book though, lowering it so he can flip through it and point out pictures of animals and princes and castles, eyes sparkling.

" _Omma_ ," Soonyoung cocks his head to the side, "can I go inside now?" 

"Soonyoung - " His mother starts with a warning tone. Wonwoo's little arms tighten around his book, a small frown tightening up his features, staring straight at the ground and oh, Soonyoung realises that probably sounded like he wanted to run away. An icky feeling wells up in his chest, making him feel about five centimetres tall. He didn’t mean it that way, really!

"I mean, can Wonwoo come inside with me?" He amends, hands pressed together like a prayer, "I'll only bring him to the living room, promise!"

Soonyoung's mother looks at Aunty Jeon hesitantly, "I don't know if that's a good idea Soonyoung, Aunty Jeon and Wonwoo are a bit busy today…"

"Wonwoo-yah, do you want to go in and play with Soonyoungie for a bit? I can come by before dinner to pick you up."

Soonyoung makes sure to smile his brightest smile at Wonwoo, the ones that make his eyes scrunch up like the clock. _My 10:10 boy_ , his mum always teases him.

Wonwoo lowers his book a little, doesn't really answer, but mumbles something under his breath.

"What's that Wonwoo-yah?" Aunty Jeon leans down for him to whisper something and then nods, patting his head gently and smiling apologetically at Soonyoung and his mother, "It was lovely of you to offer but I think we're a bit too busy today - there's still the rest of the block to go."

"Ah, no worries!" His mum says lightly, thumbing away Soonyoung's pout with resigned fondness, "You must have a lot of things to settle but this neighbourhood is rather nice, I hope you find yourself welcome. And Soonyoung, don't be sad, you'll see Wonwoo at kindergarten soon so play nice, hmm?"

"Yes _omma_ ," Soonyoung sulks, waving goodbye as the Jeons retreat from their front door, Wonwoo's book tucked under his arm now.

“Do you think I made him sad, _omma_?”

His mum presses her lips together, hand resting on the back of his head, “I think you made him a little bit insecure, Soonyoung-ah. Wonwoo doesn’t know a lot of people who likes books like him.”

“Insecure,” Soonyoung repeats, testing the word out on his tongue and not liking the way it sounds, “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright honey,” his mum ushers him inside, closing the door behind them, “you can make it up to him when you see him at kindergarten, hmm? He just needs a friend.”

“I can be his friend,” Soonyoung nods determinedly, puffing his cheeks out with his hands on his hips, “I’ll be his bestest friend ever. Forever!”

//

Minghao is not his boyfriend but if Soonyoung plays his cards right, he could be.

“What’re you thinking about?” Minghao looks at Soonyoung strangely from where Soonyoung’s perched on his bed, pausing in where he’s pouring out glasses of wine for the both of them on Soonyoung’s desk. Soonyoung had confessed he knew jackshit about wine, didn’t even know that they had to have special glasses for each type, but Minghao hadn’t scorned him at all, just bumped their shoulders together and said he’d have to show him sometime. So here they are, Soonyoung’s shitty dorm room hosting an impromptu wine tasting (date) whilst Soonyoung pretends not to hate every single glass that’s been poured for him so far. 

Wine, he decides, is just something he has to put effort into not making a face when drinking, lest he jeopardise his chances at the first potential relationship he’s flirted with ever since starting university this year.

Soonyoung smiles at Minghao, as disarmingly and as adorably as possible, pretending he wasn’t just spacing out and fantasising about tipping the red in front of him into the cactus he bought three weeks ago.

“Just,” Soonyoung gestures vaguely with the wine glass, pretending he doesn’t notice when some of it slops out the side and trickles down his arm, staining his bedsheets “I think this is the first time you’ve seen my dorm.”

“Yeah,” Minghao agrees, taking in Soonyoung’s explanation easily, rounding off his pour, “you’ve got a nice room, hyung. Better than the international students.”

“Really?” Soonyoung asks as Minghao straightens up with his glass in hand, pacing around Soonyoung’s room, stopping in front of the narrow bookshelf in the corner. He’s already marvelled at the Shinee posters stuck up on the wardrobe and on the walls earlier when entering but hadn’t said anything more than that Soonyoung better show him some of their choreography sometime. Soonyoung’s heart had expanded like ten times bigger, “You should show me.” 

“If you want,” Minghao says amiably enough, perusing the contents of Soonyoung’s shelf. Half of it is crammed with files and notebooks for school, the other half are albums stacked high; on the top of the shelf, some framed photos and knick knacks he picked up here and there, “who’s in this photo with you, hyung?”

“Um,” Soonyoung leans forwards to make out the figures in the photo, relaxing backwards against the wall when he identifies them, “Seokku and Mingyu, two of my friends from high school but they’re a grade younger - your age actually! They’re graduating this year.”

“You all look very close,” Minghao says warmly, smiling small at Soonyoung before placing the frame gently back onto the top shelf, “I’m surprised you were friends with younger years though, how’d you meet them?”

“Oh,” Soonyoung says, trying to think over how to reply, “I met Seokku from the buddy program the school organised and we got on really well so we started hanging out and then when Seokmin became friends with Mingyu, we all just started eating lunch and stuff together.” The full story can be saved for another day; scaring away Minghao when they haven’t gotten their house by the beach and two daughters yet isn’t super optimal. “Maybe you could meet them one day.”

“I’d like that,” Minghao hums, sipping at his glass, “they look handsome.”

“Do I have to worry about losing you to some same-age friends,” Soonyoung jokes, willing a smile to his face as he sloshes the wine around for a distraction. What he wouldn’t give for a bottle of soju right now. There must be something off in his tone though because Minghao turns around and looks him over carefully from where he was in the midst of fiddling with something on the shelf.

“Hyung are - “

“What are you looking at over there, huh?”

Soonyoung bounds off his bed, shuffling over to where Minghao’s standing and tucks his chin over Minghao’s shoulder. He has to slightly tiptoe to fully hook his chin over Minghao’s bony shoulder blade but it’s worth it for the way Minghao laughs, warm and fond. 

“This,” Minghao bops Soonyoung’s nose with whatever he’s got before turning his palm out to show Soonyoung what he’s picked up. It’s a plastic robot, a paler yellow now than his memory dictates, “it’s cute. Never would’ve thought you were into robots.”

“I’m not really,” Soonyoung screws his face up in thought, “it was just the best prize we could get from the arcade at the time and like, we skipped hagwon for it, so we had to bring _something_ back.” 

“Skipped hagwon?” Minghao teases, “I bet it was your idea, you seem like you were a rebellious kid.”

Soonyoung opens his mouth to protest but then closes it again when he realises Minghao’s right. He’d been the one to convince Wonwoo to divert paths after school had ended for the day, racing him from their middle school to that arcade near the playground. 

“Well Wonwoo didn’t talk me out of it,” Soonyoung says without thinking, always the default excuse for his own behaviour even though it’s been five years now

“Who’s Wonwoo?”

“Um,” Soonyoung says, brain sputtering to a stop, “a… a friend. From middle school. He’s - We’re not that close anymore.”

“Oh, you went to different high schools?”

“No,” Soonyoung’s voice is tight, “no, we went to the same highschool. He’s at our university too actually.”

It’s not like he can forget actually, no matter how much he wants to. Stray thoughts, unbidden, crop up like weeds whenever he’s scurrying through the halls to get to his next lecture and sees a pair of round frames perched underneath a mop of dark hair. When the kids next to him in the library are having a heated argument about Overwatch he barely understands. When he’s stocking his supermarket trolley with snacks, eyes hovering over familiar packets of vegetable crackers longer than the others. 

He doesn’t say this. 

“And you’ve never got back in touch?”

“No,” Soonyoung says shortly, lips pursed into a slash. He takes the little yellow robot from Minghao and tosses it about in his own hand. It’s hard to explain, the impassable gulf between them. There’s nothing that suggests that Wonwoo’s ever thought about him since highschool; he’s barely a wisp of a name and a ghost of a face in Wonwoo’s mind. Somehow, it fills him with a hollow sinking kind of feeling he can’t put a name to.

Then Soonyoung notices Minghao’s silence and he’s suddenly tripping over himself to fill it.

“I mean, it’s just. Weird. We didn’t really hang out in high school and now it’s just awkward right?” Soonyoung takes a large gulp of the wine to chase away his thoughts and tries not to retch as it goes down, “There’s no way of reaching out without sounding weird, you know? I’m bad at that and - ”

“Slow down,” Minghao reaches a hand out to steady his hand holding the glass, making a face like he’s not sure whether to laugh or tut at Soonyoung’s ineptitude. It’s a face Soonyoung’s been seeing a lot, ever since he blundered his way into Minghao’s _wushu_ class instead of the taekwondo dojo three months ago, “you’re not meant to drink wine like that.”

“Oh right,” Soonyoung says blankly, glad to latch onto another subject to distract himself from the twisting in his gut, “you sniff it first right?” 

“After swirling.”

“After swirling.” Soonyoung repeats, doing the action and watching the red form whirlpools. He puts his nose to the rim and takes a deep whiff, copying Minghao exactly. Smells like… old grapes, “Okay, I’m. Smelling it.”

“Uh huh,” Minghao says amusedly, sipping from his own glass, “what do you smell?”

“It’s um,” Soonyoung takes a small sip and braces for the taste, schooling his features into what hopefully passes for a thoughtful face, “deep. And mature.”

Minghao stares at him, seconds ticking by as Soonyoung internally devolves into a state of panic, before he puts his own glass down and bursts into adorable high pitched giggles, “You sound like you’re describing your taste in porn, hyung.”

Fuck, Soonyoung flushes up to his ears, putting the glass down on his desk before he drops it and makes another mess. He crosses his arms across his chest, biting down furiously on his lower lip and tries not to sulk.

Funny how he thought university would be the confidence boost he needed to yank himself out of that insecurity funk he’d gotten himself into in highschool, yet he’s still here making a fool of himself, trying to swallow over the bitter lump in the back of his throat. 

“Wait, no, no, no,” Minghao swoops into his personal space, putting his glass down too and cupping Soonyoung’s cheeks in his slender hands, “I didn’t mean it that way, hyung. You know Korean is hard for me.”

Soonyoung harrumphs, sticking his bottom lip out further, trying to milk Minghao’s sympathy for all it’s worth. 

“Cute,” Minghao says, something flashing in his eyes for a second as he thumbs over the jut of Sooyoung’s bottom lip, “you’re really cute, you know that hyung? You don’t have to pretend you know all about this stuff, I didn’t either at the start. Just tell me if you like it or not, that’s all. It’s that simple.”

“Is it?” Soonyoung says.

“Sure,” Minghao says, and gets even closer, “it’s simple like this: do you like _me_ or not?”

Soonyoung swallows. 

The answer should come easy to his lips. Guys like Minghao - hot, available, interested in Soonyoung - they’re not easy to come by. Not to mention Minghao’s sort of loaded and if Soonyoung’s being honest, that should be decisive in itself. He should go for it, there’s no reason why he shouldn’t.

He licks his lips and rubs sweaty palms against the outside of his jeans, nearly jumping out of his skin when something falls out of his hand and quietly clatters onto the floor and then out of sight. It’s the robot. Soonyoung exhales softly, reply dormant on his lips dissolving like ash. He can’t quite put a name or reason to it but even as his head’s fogged up, clarity cleaves through like power beams, steering his gut to the right answer.

Minghao is still waiting. Two choices, one decision, but everything always brings him to the same result.

//

“Tonkatsu,” Soonyoung declares, plopping his tray down, “is the only reason to come to school on Wednesdays.”

“Tonkatsu forever!” Seokmin cheers, holding a piece up in a ‘cheers’ motion, cheeks already bulging with the stuff. Mingyu, the other underclassman Soonyoung’s been sitting with nowadays, lets out a similar whoop too, not giving a single fuck that he’s exposing the entire chewed up contents of his mouth to the entire canteen. Suddenly tonkatsu doesn’t seem all that appetizing anymore.

Soonyoung pokes at the oily crust with his metal chopsticks gingerly before picking up the soup bowl instead, taking a gulp.

“Oooh, is Wonwoo-sunbaenim getting confessed to again?” 

And there goes the soup. All over the table. And Mingyu.

“Hyung,” Mingyu whines, pulling at his white vest sweater sadly, “what the fuck?”

“Sorry,” Soonyoung chokes out, still spluttering a little and making Seokmin flutter anxiously between the two of them with his limited napkin supply, “I just - surprised.”

Mingyu wrinkles up his nose, crossing his arms across his body in an x-form and stripping his vest off that way, dumping it on the seat next to him, “Don’t know why you’re so surprised,” he grumbles, eyeing Soonyoung resentfully before he shifts his focus to staring meaningfully at Soonyoung’s tonkatsu cutlet, “isn’t he the most popular guy in your grade? I hear he gets confessions on the rooftop all the time.”

“Yeah well,” around him, everyone’s eyes are glued in on one central spot in the canteen area. Must be one gutsy girl to confess to the O Holy Jeon Wonwoo in public, “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

Tired of Mingyu’s staring, Soonyoung picks up his plate of cutlet and slides it across the table as silent apology. Mingyu the bastard doesn’t even bother to say thank you, just cackles in glee and slides it onto his tray before Seokmin’s wandering chopsticks can come by. 

“Aren’t the two of you sort of friends?” Seokmin asks curiously, cocking his head to the side as he polishes off the banchan on his tray with the rest of his rice, “Last time we were talking in the hallways he kind of…” Seokmin worries his lip, exchanging the most obvious telepathic glances with Mingyu, “Well, he seemed comfortable with you.”

 _Comfortable_ , Soonyoung wants to snort, if you call creepily sneaking up behind someone in the hallways to humiliate them in front of impressionable juniors ‘comfortable’, sure _._

“The almighty Jeon Wonwoo,” Soonyoung says, more acerbic than he intended, “associating with a lowly commoner like me?” He laughs and it’s just sound, “It’s beneath him, isn’t it? Too busy,” he picks up his rice bowl and furiously scrapes its contents into his soup, metal clang of chopsticks against the bowl masking closing footsteps, “getting love letters and confessions and - “

“Um…” Mingyu says and food mush drops out of his mouth onto the table, “hi hyung?”

Soonyoung’s shaping his mouth around the words to inquire when someone snorts behind him, eerily familiar. He’s heard it a billion times maybe, never this bitter though and never towards him. 

Someone else murmurs something in concerned tones, a girl whispers something to a friend and the group walks off, exiting the canteen, doors swinging behind them. Wonwoo’s frame, broad shoulders tight with tension, right in their midst. 

Soonyoung closes his eyes. Breathes deep.

“That was - “ Seokmin starts, nervous tinge to his tone.

“Yeah,” Soonyoung attaches his mouth to the lip of his soup bowl, delivering its contents to his stomach like his throat’s just a delivery chute. Usually too salty for him, it just tastes like cardboard today. He slams it down on his tray when he’s drained it dry. His stomach hurts now, his chest too. That’s sodium for you, huh. 

He smiles at Seokmin, tight-lipped, “Who else, right?”

//

“If you don’t do your half of the project, I’m telling the professor to fail you.”

“What the fuck,” Soonyoung snaps his head up from his phone, scowling at Wonwoo’s mocking smile, “that’s a dick move. I’m contributing and you totally know that.”

“Not if you keep staring at your phone and smiling like that,” Wonwoo shrugs, capping his highlighter and reclining in the chair across from him. The latte he got earlier is still untouched, probably cold by now. They’ve been in this cafe now for like five hours, Soonyoung would be surprised if it wasn’t. He’s gotten up to get a refill twice now himself, one of those seasonal fruity drinks the barista recommended first and then now just an iced americano he made sure to pour lots of syrup into before it was palatable, “Who’re you texting? A boyfriend?”

“No one you’d know,” Soonyoung sniffs, holding his phone closer to himself. There’s nothing incriminating on there, just a groupchat with his dance club brainstorming the more… _creative_ ways they’re going to recruit next year but he still has his hackles up like Wonwoo’s just gonna lean over and look. Honestly, he wouldn’t put it past him. 

It’s weird, that seeing Wonwoo makes him feel like he’s in highschool all over again, defensive and insecure all at once.

“No one I’d know,” Wonwoo rolls his eyes, toying with the highlighter in his hands restlessly, “so not Seo Myungho then?”

Soonyoung bristles. He was right to be on his guard then, even if Mingyu had thought he was overreacting when he’d ranted to him and Seokmin over Facetime after project partners were decided. Jeon Wonwoo really has not changed since highschool. If anything, his personality’s gotten worse and turns out he’s a fucking stalker too. He wonders if it’s too late to ask the professor whether he could do this project solo instead.

“Not Myungho,” he says as coolly as he can, tucking his phone into his pocket. _Came damn close to it though_ , whispers a small voice at the back of his head, _if only you hadn’t chickened out and got so caught up on that stupid robot. Or even better, if you hadn’t introduced him to_ Mingyu _-_

 _Shut up_ , Soonyoung suppresses the voice and mentally stuffs it into a box. This isn’t the time to ruminate on past what-if’s. If it’s work Wonwoo wants done, it’s work he’ll do. Sooner they get this dumb project done, the sooner he can stop looking at Jeon Wonwoo’s stupidly smug (and still stupidly handsome, _goddamnit)_ face, “not that it’s any of your business though, you _stalker_.”

“It’s not stalking if you tagged him on social media,” Wonwoo grumbles under his breath before nudging at Soonyoung’s foot underneath the table. Oh fuck this, Soonyoung shoots Wonwoo a glare and pointedly tucks his feet under his own chair, “c’mon, I wanna know about what you’ve been up to. Are you dating anyone new?”

“Why, are you interested?” Soonyoung snorts (he’s not being defensive, he’s not!) looking over at the downloaded powerpoint slides on his laptop and scribbling down some key dates to research later, maybe he can pull some graphs from the years that - 

The laptop screen closes, Wonwoo’s hand laid flat on top.

“What is it now?” Soonyoung gapes. He wishes all the people pining over Wonwoo in highschool had known this side of him, the stroppy brat that acts out whenever he wants attention, “You wanted me to do work and now I’m doing work!”

“Yeah but,” Wonwoo crosses his arms, frowning. The tan t-shirt he’s got on fits tight around his arms like he’s been working out or something since highschool. Not that Soonyoung’s looking, of course, “look, don’t you think it’s, I don’t know, some hell of a coincidence we got matched up together as partners - “

“ - because no one else was left - “

“ - almost like we’re having a second chance to reconnect? My mum was so happy when she heard you know, she practically helped raise you.”

“I - “ Soonyoung says, bravado faltering. It’s easy to resent Wonwoo but not so easy for Aunty Jeon who’s one of the kindest figures from his childhood. Really just a pity about her son, “She asked about me?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo sighs, raking a hand through his hair, making the fabric of the shirt stretch tighter over his chest. Again, not that Soonyoung’s looking. It’s just hard not to notice, that’s all, “she said she’d send you some of her _nabak kimchi_ when we finish our project if you still can’t eat spicy things.”

“Awww,” Soonyoung coos, momentarily forgetting about the uncomfortable atmosphere he’s done nothing to alleviate since awkwardly arranging a time and place to meet at the end of the lecture last week, “your mum’s still the sweetest. Is your house number still the same? I’ll call and thank her later.”

“No,” Wonwoo says quickly before shifting around a bit, looking distracted, “I mean, I think we changed it a few years ago. Uh, why don’t I text it to you. Your number’s still the same right?”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung says slowly, “it hasn’t changed.”

“Okay,” Wonwoo says, nodding as if to himself, “okay good. I’ll text you then and you better text back this time.”

“What do you mean ‘this time’ - “ Soonyoung breaks off, remembering the last year of highschool, “oh.”

“It’s fine,” Wonwoo shrugs, looking discomfited, “I’m not mad about it still or anything. I ran into your mum at the supermarket last year and she well, explained some things.”

“Oh,” Soonyoung says, mortified, “ _oh_. You didn’t um, you didn’t know? At that time?”

“No,” Wonwoo crosses his arms, drawing into himself, “I um. Realise how I could’ve come across and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Ah,” Soonyoung says again, warmer now, “no, that’s okay. I - I think I was sensitive then too. _Suneung_ brain, right?”

“ _Suneung_ brain,” Wonwoo wrinkles up his nose, glasses shifting on the bridge of it, and he pushes it back up with his index finger. It’s a sorely familiar sight that sets off a pang in Soonyoung’s chest. Caffeine overdose, it must be, “so glad that part of highschool is over.”

He looks at Soonyoung, traces of that shy boy from Soonyoung’s kindergarten memories rising to the surface, mouth curled up at one side as he says, tentative, “There’s lots more to look forward to now, huh?”

//

“Wonwoo-goon has chocolate!” Someone yells when they step into the classroom, Soonyoung peering around Wonwoo’s body to see what the fuss is all about. Sure enough, there’s chocolate on Wonwoo’s desk. _Nice_ chocolate too, a proper box and everything with the brand name gilded on the front and the red ribbon still curled and bouncy. 

_Weird_ , is Soonyoung’s first thought followed by the faint churning of his stomach, _maybe he shouldn’t have had that canned tuna this morning?_ He didn’t think people gave actual _boxes_ of chocolate in middle school. Wasn’t that for more serious love confessions, the kind for highschoolers with actual pocket money to buy? 

“Is there a name?” Soonyoung asks, following after Wonwoo to plop into the desk in front of his best friend, “Girls usually leave a name right?”

“I don’t know?” Wonwoo says questioningly, looking between the fancy box he’s turning between his hands and up at Soonyoung’s face as if to judge his reaction, “I don’t think there’s a card.”

“It’s an anonymous confession?” Soonyoung gasps once everyone’s scattered back to their own desks or into smaller groups clumped around the classroom. Interest really doesn’t last long here in middle school, “How are you meant to return the favour on White Day then?”

“ _Can_ I even return it?” Wonwoo moans, suddenly nervous to even pick at the ribbon, face slowly falling, “Fuck, how much do you think this cost?”

“More than you spend on your dumb video games, you nerd,” Soonyoung sticks out his tongue at Wonwoo, hoping to lighten the worry slowly darkening his best friend’s expression, drawing his features together into a tight pinch, “don’t worry about it - maybe they didn’t leave a name so you wouldn’t feel pressured to return it?”

“That kinda defeats the point of a confession though?” Wonwoo asks, tipping his head to the side, puzzled.

“Well,” Soonyoung scrambles for something to say; admitting there’s something he doesn’t know in front of Wonwoo might as well mean death, “um, maybe it’s romantic like that. Like a secret admirer!”

“Oh,” Wonwoo blinks at him - well, maybe more like squints, his vision is getting worse these days. Aunty Jeon keeps saying they have to bring him to an eye doctor soon, “you think it’s romantic?”

“Well,” Soonyoung shrugs, unsure how to hold himself suddenly in the beam of Wonwoo’s concentrated gaze, “yeah, I guess?”

Truth be told, Soonyoung doesn’t have much knowledge of romance. Everything he knows is from one of Minkyung-noona’s movies that she makes him sit down and watch with her sometimes, holding him down to stop him squirming away to his room. Still, if it makes Wonwoo feel better…

“You guess?”

“No,” Soonyoung coughs, folding his arms across his chest and drawing himself up higher, “I mean, I know. It’s definitely romantic, most romantic ever, and you should definitely open the box and split them with me.”

That startles a laugh out of Wonwoo, the caution leaving his face for a second. 

“You just want to know what fancy chocolate tastes like,” he accuses Soonyoung, tucking the box by his side, “no way, I’m gonna give this to my mum.”

“Your mum can afford to buy her own chocolates,” Soonyoung whines but he’s not serious and they both know it. Aunty Jeon is (apart from Soonyoung’s own parents, he’s a good son like that) maybe the most deserving of chocolates, always whipping out her _nabak kimchi_ when he goes to eat at the Jeon’s because she knows he doesn’t like spicy food, “think of the hungry children here!” He points to himself and his open mouth at that, prompting another giggle from Wonwoo, even as Soonyoung’s stomach still feels funny, folding over itself in discomfort. God, it really must have been something he’d eaten.

“You’ll get chocolate later,” Wonwoo shoos him away as their homeroom teacher enters the classroom, exactly two minutes before the bell, “you don’t need mine.”

“As if,” Soonyoung sulks, slumping down in his seat, pretending to be disappointed. Maybe if he sulks enough Wonwoo will give into him later. If he can even stomach anything later, that is. It’s weird, he’s not even hungry right now and he’s _always_ hungry, “I never get chocolate.”

That’s not entirely true. There are some girls from their class and the other class that go around giving everyone chocolates - homemade! - during lunchtime and Soonyoung pretends he doesn’t see when they giggle between themselves and slip Wonwoo two instead of the standard one. The little bit of appetite he’d recovered earlier disappears just as quickly and suddenly Soonyoung’s not really hungry anymore, forcing himself more than anything else to choke down the rest of his rice when Wonwoo excuses himself to go to the bathroom. What a shitty Valentines. 

They pour back into the classroom after lunch, more than a few hands and mouths stained with chocolate, and one newly borne couple swinging hands between them. See how long they last, Soonyoung thinks to himself, maybe a little more bitter than warranted. Seeing happy couples around him just worsens his mood more than anything else, he sure hopes Wonwoo doesn’t start dating too. His lips turn downwards more at the thought, hands in pockets shoving the obligatory chocolates he was given further down where they’ll probably melt and stain later. He apologises to his mum in advance.

He slumps down at his desk as the teacher comes in, rapping on the board to start their next period. Wonwoo comes slipping in after, bowing apologetically as he takes his seat. Maybe all that chocolate makes you poop real bad, Soonyoung thinks, somewhat vengefully. 

Wonwoo creeps down the aisle, on the way to his own desk, but makes a surprised face when he passes Soonyoung, pointing down at something. Soonyoung looks down at his desk and then does a double take: there’s a single chocolate sitting right on top of his textbook that he somehow failed to notice earlier.

“What the fuck?” He mouths over his shoulder at Wonwoo, getting only a shrug from Wonwoo and a pointed cough from _ssaem._ He does his best approximation at an apologetic smile, secreting the chocolate into his lap to look at it closer. It’s wrapped in shiny gold, no post-it or card anywhere, perfect dome shape screaming _expensive_. He flicks at the bottom of the foil where it’s starting to peel back, studying the brand name. It seems familiar somehow and - oh. Isn’t it the same brand as Wonwoo’s box of chocolates from this morning?

Oh, he grimaces, closing his sweaty fist around it and plunging it into his pocket to join the other obligatory chocolates. Evidently it’s the only type of chocolate he’ll ever get. Makes sense, he’ll never be Wonwoo after all.

//

_from_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

[20170907_33963.jpg]

 _from_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

oh sorry wrong person

 _to_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

did you finally get a cat?

 _to_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

oh that’s ok

 _to_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

eyesight still shit huh

 _from_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

you’re one to talk kwon

 _from_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

figured out how to use naver yet

 _to_ **_wonwoo_ **:

shut up jeon

 _from_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

kkkk

 _from_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

she’s not mine, just found her on the way to school

 _to_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

which road?

 _from_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

bike path near the convenience store on the corner

 _to_ **_wonwoo_ **:

you bike to school now?

 _from_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

yeah

 _from_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

you should ride with me sometime, i know you have a bike

 _from_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

save you some bus tickets

Soonyoung stares down at his cracked phone screen, upper lip curling, before he decisively locks it. He’s got half a mind to chuck it across the bed before he rethinks, gets ahold of himself and rests it gently on his desk instead. He can’t afford to treat his phone recklessly right now, the last thing he’d want to do is to make his parents handle any extra burdens. 

It’s bad enough they’ve been getting those red-stamped bills in the mail for a few weeks now. Worse that they’re getting these hushed phone calls from his grandparents on the farm back in Namyangju late at night when they think he’s asleep. And even worst is stupid fucking Jeon Wonwoo who always manages to hit him where it hurts.

This is why they don’t talk. Shouldn’t talk. In fact, they’ve been doing such a great job at keeping that silence there’s no point in disrupting the status quo. 

So he doesn’t reply to the next text that rolls in, doesn’t even touch his phone. 

Instead he jumps off his bed and does a fairly good job of staring at his English textbook for the next five minutes, trying to absorb all these stupid spellings by the sheer power of concentration. _Suneung_ should be his priority, Soonyoung tells himself sternly, trying to burn the vocabulary list before him into his memory, it’s the least he can do for his parents. 

Alright, he covers up his textbook with an arm, spell _resistance_. R-e-z-i-s-t-a-n-c-e. He lifts his hand to check the spelling again and hisses out a curse, sulkily pulling his exercise book over to copy it out ten more times. What a stupid language with stupid spelling rules - 

His phone buzzes. 

Soonyoung pauses, pen poised in the air. _Resistance_ , he writes firmly, black ink stark on the white page, _r-e-s-i-s-t-a-n-c-e._

His phone buzzes again. 

_R-e-s-i-s-t-a-n-c-e_ , he chants in his mind, _r-e-s-i-s-t-a-n-c-e._

His iPhone vibrates once more in two short bursts before going silent. Hopefully for good.

 _Resistance_ , Soonyoung says out loud, _r-e-s-i-s-t-a-_

Oh fuck it.

He rolls his desk chair over and picks his phone up. There’s some sort of morbid curiosity in wanting to know what Jeon Wonwoo’s texted him whilst simultaneously dreading it. 

_from_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

well let me know i’ll wait for you

 _from_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

how’s tomorrow?

 _from_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

soonyoung?

 _from_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

did you forget how to use your phone?

 _from_ **_wonwoo_ **: 

fine.

He puts his phone down afterwards and tries not to dwell too much on the abrupt flash of instinct to apologise that had crossed his mind, the urge to open up their message thread and text back. He opens up his bedside drawer and slides his phone in - out of sight, out of mind - and returns to his vocabulary list.

 _Disappointment_ , he reads out loud, swallowing the lump in his throat, _d-i-s-a-p-p-o-i-n-t-m-e-n-t._

_//_

“Hyung? Soonyoung hyung?”

“Mm?” Soonyoung looks up from his phone, confused, before a massive grin bursts over his face at the sight of one of his favourite dongsaengs, “Channie!”

“Hi hyung,” Chan makes a face at the name but he’s learnt by now that it’s not wise to deny Soonyoung his affections, “are you waiting for someone?”

“Just a friend,” Soonyoung shrugs, putting his phone away and reaching over to take his bag off the chair he was saving for Wonwoo, “he’s running late though and I’m gonna make him pay so I’m not ordering yet - wanna keep me company for a bit?”

“Sure,” Chan agrees easily enough, sliding in opposite Soonyoung, “I’m just waiting for my drink though, I gotta go back to the studio to work out some of the kinks in my choreo soon.”

“For the auditions coming up?”

“Yeah, for the showcase,” Chan sighs, raking a hand through his hair, fluffy like he’s just towel-dried it, “I know I’m just a first year and I should be happy I got into the club at all but,” he huffs, cupping his face between his hands, “I really want a spot, hyung.”

“Well with all the work you’re putting in, I wouldn’t be surprised if you got one.” Soonyoung says warmly, giving into the urge to ruffle Chan’s hair, “C’mon, show me what you’ve got so far, Channie. You’ve probably got a video on you, right?”

“How did you know?” Chan laughs, loud and full-bodied, video already pulled up on his phone as he scoots around next to Soonyoung. He plugs in his earphones and offers Soonyoung one side. “Here.”

Soonyoung plucks it from his hand, wiggling it into his ear and Chan presses play. 

Chan is good. That should be obvious since the dance club has a limited quota for first years and only the best make it in. He remembers Chan saying that he’s been dancing for most of his life, joking that he’d started learning in the womb when Soonyoung first saw him at new member auditions. It’s evident in the way he dances, power in the way he hits point moves, confidence shining through in a way that makes Soonyoung think _ah, this is what a star looks like._

When the music stops though, it’s a different story. Like some perverse magic, it’s almost like the aura just drains from him when he’s not on stage, overworking and overthinking himself to pieces. No doubt that’s why he’s practicing on a Saturday of all days, despite auditions still three weeks away. Even now, next to Soonyoung, he’s chewing his lip to bits, shoulders hunched in as the Chan onscreen strikes his finishing pose with a cocky smirk.

He reminds Soonyoung a lot of himself in highschool.

“So?” Chan asks, angling his head up and bracing himself like he’s ready to receive his critique, “Just be honest with me hyung, what’s wrong with - ”

“Soonyoung?”

“Ah,” Soonyoung nearly falls off his seat and chokes himself to death with Chan’s earphones. He yanks the side out and splutters, glaring at Wonwoo, “you have a long way to go if you’re trying to convince me you’re not a stalker, Wonwoo-yah. No one should be _that_ silent coming up behind other people.”

“I thought I was being obvious,” Wonwoo says icily but his eyes aren’t on Soonyoung, spearing right through Chan instead, “I didn’t know you were attracting jailbait nowadays.”

“Um, hyung,” Chan tugs at Soonyoung’s sleeve, evidently trying to scramble away from the person with the crazy eyes. Good decision, Soonyoung thinks grimly, he should’ve done the same a long time ago, “I think they already called my drink, I should probably go - “

“Good idea,” Wonwoo says coolly, slamming down two iced americanos and then reaching into his pockets to slap down a shit ton of sugar syrup packets on the table like he’s pissing over territory or something, “run along kid. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than chase after oblivious dumbasses. Shoot inside your own league next time.”

“And I,” Soonyoung says, gritting his teeth at the jibe, “am sure you have better things to do than just being an utter dick to juniors for no reason.”

Don’t you have better things to do than break hearts, Jeon Wonwoo? Soonyoung already gets it, he’s not Jeon Wonwoo’s type, but he’s slowly making his peace with it. Wonwoo though, ever since that group date two months ago, seems like he’s going even more out of his way to provoke Soonyoung and rub his stupid crush in his face.

Whatever he said when he was drunk, Wonwoo refuses to tell him, but Soonyoung’s been carrying around this feeling of dread that he finally spilled the beans and Wonwoo is trying to let him down now. Not very gently though.

“Uh,” Chan says, “I’m just going to go. I’ll - I’ll see you at the next meeting, hyung, bye.”

Soonyoung opens his mouth to protest but Chan slips out of the door too quick and it’s just him and Wonwoo left.

“Wow,” Soonyoung says, “what the fuck is wrong with you? He just wanted feedback on his choreo.”

“Right,” Wonwoo says rolling his eyes, yanking out the chair roughly with a piercing screech, “I’m sure that’s all he wanted.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Soonyoung asks incredulously, volume rising enough so that nearby patrons are staring now.

“I’m sure you know,” Wonwoo snarks, crossing one leg over the other, prim and proper, “I know you’re oblivious Soonyoungie but I didn’t know you were that dumb.”

Soonyoung’s jaw hardens. Maybe this is what he hates the most about having Wonwoo as a friend - childhood friend, ex-best-friend, crush - whatever. They know how to hurt you, you see, without even trying. It’s in the way Wonwoo manages to burrow his way under Soonyoung’s skin like a parasite. How he hits him where it hurts all whilst pretending he was never the cause of it in the first place. How he’ll always come second-best, how he’ll always mean less to Wonwoo than the other does to him.

Maybe Soonyoung really is dumb after all. 

“Fine,” he says quietly, jaw set in a hard line, “point taken. I don’t have your brains, I get it. But I do think I have enough common sense to know that we don’t really work as friends anymore though.”

He bows mockingly in the light of Wonwoo’s faltering expression, sweeping up his stuff and shoving it haphazardly into his bag, “Thank you for showing me the error of my ways, almighty Jeon Wonwoo. Have a nice life.” 

Friends outgrow each other, grow apart, for a reason. With time, he’s sure he’ll outgrow this stupidly persistent crush too. 

//

Health lessons had warned Soonyoung about puberty - balls dropping, voice cracking, fluids from places he doesn’t even want to start thinking about - but never had they prepared him for this. _This_ being the utter unfairness with which puberty attacks them all. It’s a spectrum, you see. 

In one corner, Class 1B, there’s Kwon Soonyoung stuck with the worst end of it all: acne splotching his cheeks and chin, made worse by the fact he picks at it all the time and makes them scar, stubborn baby fat that leaves him perpetually stuck in middle-school and a magnet for all his aunties’ pinchy fingers during Chuseok, and to top it all off, there’s the obscene amount of laundry and shame he finds himself dealing with in the middle of the night. _Ding, ding, ding!_ In the other corner, there’s Jeon Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo, blessed by the fucking puberty Gods, should go buy a lotto ticket because if he’s already won the genetic lottery he might as well win another. Jeon Wonwoo, who’s not only shot up to string bean proportions with a killer jaw that defined out into a sleek sharp line overnight, but whose awkward silences are now just ‘chic’ and his bad jokes, ‘reversal charm’. 

In short, Wonwoo’s got the hot end of the stick and Soonyoung’s just trying to not spit everywhere over the fit of his braces in his mouth. Fuck this shit forever. 

It was bearable in their first year of highschool, bearable in the sense that they were still in this together, trying to make sense of their changing bodies. _Nothing’s changed really_ , Soonyoung told himself, biting the inside of his cheek as Wonwoo plopped down at his desk to a carton of banana milk and a chocolate bar, tagged with love heart post-its, an increasingly common sight nowadays. They were still the same awkward pair of best friends from middle school, stuck at the hip right for forever? Right.

Except then Wonwoo starts hanging out with Seungcheol-sunbaenim and his group of friends which well, they’re all friendly enough. Seungcheol-sunbae’s maybe the friendliest out of them all with his blindingly white teeth and dorky laughter, inviting both Wonwoo and Soonyoung to sit with him and his circle of friends in the canteen and telling them to call him hyung. Soonyoung’s maybe a little starstruck at first, fidgeting nervously in his seat and laughing a little too loud at inappropriate times as the seniors and Wonwoo - the same guy he used to tease mercilessly for being such a nerd - hold a conversation over his head about something called Overwatch and other stuff Soonyoung’s never heard of before. It makes him feel out of sorts, itchy in his skin, and no amount of butterflies that Seungcheol-sunbae’s smile makes him feel changes that. 

The group (Wonwoo’s group, Soonyoung starts labelling them in his head) start hanging out outside of school too. They invite him too at first; Seungcheol-sunbaenim giving him that warm smile and says he’s welcome to join their PC bang outings after school if he wants, before Wonwoo jumps in with a joke that Soonyoung couldn’t even find the power button on the computer if he tried and they all laugh. It’s the last time Soonyoung sits with them, he vows between the hot tears staining his pillow, he doesn’t need pity invitations and he doesn’t need an asshole for a best friend either.

Wonwoo, as if sensing he’s fucked up, apologises the next day over Kakao and Soonyoung sends back the obligatory forgiveness emojis but it’s not enough to disguise the fact that something’s changed between them. Wonwoo becomes, well, for lack of words, _intimidating_. It’s not the most natural word to associate with the skinny boy Soonyoung used to have sleepovers and pillow fights and anime marathons with when they were younger, pelting vegetable crackers across the room at each other until Soonyoung’s mum pointedly dumped the vacuum cleaner outside of Soonyoung’s door and left it there. Still, there’s barely a better word for the way Soonyoung’s mouth starts drying up in Wonwoo’s presence, why he feels like he’s shrunk a metre in size whenever they’re together, why his heart beats faster when Wonwoo drapes an arm around his shoulder like they’re back in middle school all over again. It’s in the way Wonwoo walks now, the attention he grabs in the hallways and the notoriety he finds on the walls of the girls’ bathrooms. Soonyoung can’t be blamed for adjusting accordingly.

He finds ways, awkward excuses, to shrug off Wonwoo’s touch now. Walks by him in the hallways but drags his feet, makes himself deliberately shrink down and lag behind so the distance gets wider and Wonwoo has to cast his head around to look for him, beckoning for him to catch up impatiently. Starts finding hobbies outside of school, dance and taekwondo classes at the studio near his sister’s school that let him beg out of after school hangouts and weekend arcade trips. Latches on to the underclassman buddy program the school makes them join in 11th Grade, finding friends in juniors like Lee Seokmin who won’t know or care about the fact that he’s not as cool as the other kids in his cohort, wide-eyed around him simply for the fact that he’s a sunbae. And if he accidentally steals Wonwoo’s buddy, Kim Mingyu, into his own circle well he doesn’t feel _that_ bad about it. 

It shouldn’t be a surprise probably when Wonwoo finally gets the hint and starts doing the same. He doesn’t look around for him in the hallways anyways; Lee Jihoon is more than an adequate replacement, the friend he can drag along with him to Seungcheol-sunbae’s PC bang sessions to play Overwatch or whatever the insiders are doing these days. A power friendship, if that were a thing. Between them, they’re always taking up two spots in the top ten when rankings are released whilst Soonyoung just tries to keep his head over the median.

Whatever. He doesn’t care anyways. 

Childhood friends aren’t forever, it’s a fact of life, barely unexpected. 

(And yet, when Soonyoung’s lying in bed sleepless, he wonders why the way they just fizzled out bothers him all the same.)

//

“It’s simple,” Soonyoung says earnestly, stepping slowly on the dance pads in time with the falling arrows onscreen, a constant _thud thud thud,_ “you just do it in time with the music. Look how slow it’s coming, you can definitely do it!”

“I’m not made for this,” Wonwoo says, turning up his nose and pushing his glasses up with his middle and index fingers. It’s become a habit ever since he got them a few weeks ago, these bright silver round frames that make him look a lot smarter than he actually is. He looks over mournfully at the coin karaoke booths, “can’t we just sing some ballads instead?”

“I didn’t drag you here to sing _ballads_ ,” Soonyoung scoffs, hopping off the machine where the demo’s finishing up and forcefully drags Wonwoo onto the platform, “that’s just as boring as hagwon. And we’re _skipping_ hagwon for this.”

“ _You’re_ skipping hagwon for this,” Wonwoo pokes him in the chest, “I just got dragged along with you.”

“Uh duh,” Soonyoung says, “it wouldn’t be fun otherwise.” He snuggles up to Wonwoo’s side and presses his cheek into his shoulder, swinging Wonwoo’s arm back and forth, whining with as much aegyo as he’s picked up from having an older sister, “C’mon, you’re my best friend Wonwoo-yah. You’ll do it with me right?”

Wonwoo opens his mouth, closes it. Does it again.

“I’m not - “ Wonwoo says weakly and by then, Soonyoung knows the battle’s been won.

“Yay!” Soonyoung cheers, lifting their joined hands together in the air, scurrying over to the slot for bills, “See, I’m so nice I’m even treating you to a game! I’m putting ₩2,000 on you, so make sure you play properly, okay?”

“Fine, fine,” Wonwoo groans, slinging his backpack off to the side, next to Soonyoung’s. He steps onto the pad next to Soonyoung’s cautiously, looking almost like the neighbourhood cat carefully balancing on assorted balconies in Soonyoung’s block, “but we’re doing easy mode, got it?” 

“Sure sure,” Soonyoung laughs, walking towards his own pad, “we’re doing Shinee though.”

“As if you’d ever accept anything else,” Wonwoo laughs, the grin splitting his face matching the one on Soonyoung’s, “pick anything, I don’t mind.”

“Best friend ever,” Soonyoung chirps, stepping out from the middle of the pad to cycle through song choices before the timer runs down, “okay, okay, hmm… Lucifer? Or Sherlock?”

“I just said it’s up to you,” Wonwoo sighs, “it’s a simple choice Soonyoungie, pick one.”

“It’s not that easy,” Soonyoung whines, doing a little hop between the left and right pads as he tries to settle on a choice. Onscreen, the timer starts counting down from ten, “shit, shit, shit, okay okay. Lucifer? Lucifer.”

“Okay, fine Lucifer.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes and uses his pad to confirm the choice before Soonyoung can change his mind again, “And we’re doing easy - “

“Hard mode!”

“What the fuck!“ Wonwoo whirls around, face panicked, “Kwon Soonyoung!”

“We need a little bit of a challenge!” Soonyoung giggles, jumping up and down on the pad to warm his body up.

_Three, two, one_

“How hard can it even be?”

Famous last words. The answer is that hard mode is definitely hard for a reason. Soonyoung had given up halfway, going feral on the pad as he just tried stomping everywhere to attempt to hit every arrow at once, betting on the miniscule chance that he’d hit the right pad with the right timing. Wonwoo had lost himself in a flurry of skinny limbs flailing everywhere, grabbing onto the bar at the back as he tried his best to keep up with the rapid rain of coloured arrows. too stubborn to relinquish control. 

_Try again_ , the machine announces to them when the torture’s over. 

Soonyoung lets out a loud wheeze and collapses onto the nearest horizontal surface and Wonwoo does too except apparently Soonyoung now qualifies as a horizontal surface. 

“I,” Wonwoo says, when he can finally take breaths that aren’t just rattling intakes of air, “fucking hate you.”

“Liar,” Soonyoung squeaks back, body convulsing with giggles even as he’s slowly crushed to death under the mass of one preteen boy, “you could never hate me.”

“I could,” Wonwoo pinches Soonyoung’s ass from his position on top the puppy pile and giggles alike when Soonyoung yelps and then tries to squirm out from under him, “I could!”

“You’d never!” Soonyoung shrieks back, wiggling his way out from under Wonwoo like a slippery fish, pouncing on top of him instead to tickle him into submission, “I know you, Jeon Wonwoo, you love me too much!”

“Yah!” Wonwoo sits up, glasses crooked on his nose, hair all mussed up with the brightest smile on his face. He reaches out and pinches at one of Soonyoung’s cheeks affectionately, eyes practically sparkling, “You’re a dumbass, you know, Kwon Soonyoung.” 

“A dumbass you love,” Soonyoung cackles, wiggling his eyebrows so violently they make Wonwoo laugh until his nose scrunches up and he’s complaining about his cheeks hurting. He doesn’t deny it though and Soonyoung - dizzy from the blood rushing to his head, body thrumming with adrenaline - is warm all over.

//

The room is warm. The room is warm and spinning until it’s not. There’s some broad flat surface under his cheek and the room is finally stable. 

Soonyoung cracks an eye open, woozy.

Scratch that, the room is stable but it’s _sideways_.

“The room isn’t sideways,” cool fingers splay across the back of his neck, comforting in their weight, “you are. You’re lying on my shoulder, Soonyoung.”

“Man, he’s really plastered.” A voice from across the table, not the most friendly sounding, “Are you a lightweight Soonyoung-goon?”

“I’mmmmm not - “

“He is a bit,” the person next to him slides in, voice low and easy on the ears. Soonyoung likes it. Wants to fall into it, “soju does that to him.”

Soonyoung’s making a noise of agreement before he knows it, doesn’t even bother opening his eyes to see who he’s agreeing with. Maybe it’s one of the other third years he doesn’t know, this group date had been put together pretty last minute after all. Maybe that’s why the girls hadn’t been too impressed with their lot, excusing themselves around thirty minutes earlier, citing dorm curfew. That’s fine, he hadn’t really been too into them either. 

“You guys seem close,” the person across from them slurs, “and here I was thinking business majors weren’t capable of making friends - all of the ones I’ve met have been stuck-up assholes getting by on their daddy’s money - ”

“Soonyoung’s not like that.” The rebuke is sharp, faster than the time it takes for Soonyoung’s brain cells to comprehend in the first place. Any mention of his family would normally rile him up but his limbs are heavy, eyelids heavier and whatever pillow he’s on is just so comfy, he might be drifting off soon, “He works hard by himself, harder than anyone I’ve ever known. If there’s anyone that’s coasting by it’s you, don’t you think? Heard you tricked a noona into taking your charity case again - how old does she think you are this time, twenty five?”

“What the _fuck_ \- “

“Just watch yourself is all I’m saying,” the person next to him says coolly and then there’s some movement jostling Soonyoung’s comfy pillow about, making Soonyoung murmur noises of discontent, before he’s hauled to his feet, “at least he’s got friends to watch out for him.”

“Some ‘friends’ you guys look like - “

“Mnngh who…” Soonyoung lifts his head, trying not to stumble right into the table.

“Okay, okay, slow down there,” hands on his shoulders, steadying him on his feet. Soonyoung’s head is stuffy, dull pounding reverberating in his skull. God, he hopes he doesn’t puke right here in the restaurant, the nice ahjummeonie would be so mad.

“C’mon Soonyoung-ah,” Soonyoung’s eyes slide open a crack, view widening to include a broad back in his vision and then, _oop_ he’s staring at the ground of the barbeque place from a higher vantage point than usual. Did he become a giant?

“No you didn’t become a giant,” and oh, Soonyoung realises now he’s taller because he’s on someone’s back, that makes sense, “we’re gonna get you home now, okay?”

Soonyoung makes a burbling content noise and sighs, tucking himself down to make himself comfy on the person’s back. He can sense immediately when they step foot out from the restaurant; the wind bites at his nose and makes him snuffle into his generous human taxi’s neck. Like the fingers on his neck earlier, the skin is cool against his. He’ll remember the nice person’s name soon, he knows it, the temperature is already sobering him up somewhat. Already he knows he’s had a lot to drink earlier, probably more than he originally anticipated. Remembers that more people showed up than he thought, remembers being coerced into doing a shot with everyone around the table having left him in this state, overheated and dizzy. God he’s hot.

The person underneath him stiffens, probably from the sudden change in temperature, and stops to hoist him up higher.

“Did you just say I’m hot?”

“Uh,” Soonyoung squints, removing his face from the person’s neck to try and identify who his saviour is, “did I?”

“Took you long enough to admit it.” 

Wait. Deep voice. Smarmy. Glasses swimming into clarity.

“ _Wonwoo_?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“I thought you left earlier?” Soonyoung wiggles around enough for Wonwoo to let him off his back, sliding downwards ungracefully and only wobbling a little bit on his feet before nearly walking off the pavement. “That girl asked you to go with her.”

Wonwoo grabs for him exasperatedly, wrapping an arm around Soonyoung’s waist and slinging Soonyoung’s arm around his neck as he attempts to steer them straight, “I only went outside for a little bit because she wanted to talk. I came back in straight afterwards - apparently that was enough time for you to get wasted though.”

“I’m not wasted!” Soonyoung protests, maybe a little bit too loudly for the time of the night by the way Wonwoo winces and holds him a little tighter, “I’m just hot!”

“Sure,” Wonwoo’s lips tick upwards in a smirk, “you know it’s okay to think I’m hot Soonyoung-ah. You can say it.”

“But I didn’t,” Soonyoung pouts, affronted, “I didn’t say that!” And it’s true because he _didn’t_ . He just meant he’s hot, like burning up hot. The fact that _Wonwoo’s_ hot, well. He didn’t say it because he doesn’t need to. It’s like objective fact. He knows it, Wonwoo knows it, the whole _world_ knows it. Including that girl earlier, probably. Wonwoo doesn’t need to hear it from Soonyoung, of all people, “I just asked why my - “ He loses track of where his hands are for a second and just decides to use one of Wonwoo’s, grabbing for one and pressing it to his flushed cheek, “why it’s so hot.”

Wonwoo stops in his tracks and Soonyoung’s forced to stumble to a stop with him. They’re in the middle of a bridge, a small one like the kind he used to bike over to school. He thinks he says something along the lines of that and something dark and sorry flickers in Wonwoo’s eyes, sliver of a shadow slipped away before Soonyoung can catch it. Maybe it’s a trick of the moonlight.

“You’re really drunk, Soonie.” Wonwoo says and his hand is still on Soonyoung’s cheek, palm dry and cool. The other still holds on to his waist, keeping him standing even though they’re not quite side-to-side anymore, Wonwoo facing him instead. Soonyoung keeps his eyes on him, tries his best to at least with his eyes threatening to flutter close every few seconds, alcohol weighing down his eyelids.

Wonwoo bites his lip. He still hasn’t moved and Soonyoung wonders idly for a second if it’s the soju fucking with his time perception or Wonwoo is, what, pondering something life-changing or something. It’s not like Soonyoung can tell; from the angle he looks up at Wonwoo with, the moon reflects in his glasses and blocks out Soonyoung’s view of his eyes. Not that it matters though, it’s not like Soonyoung can read him that well anyways. He probably lost the right to ages ago.

“I shouldn’t take advantage...”

For a microsecond, Soonyoung thinks he imagined it, that they’re just words carried on the wind from some far off fairytale, the ones Wonwoo used to be so into during kindergarten.

“Of what - “ Soonyoung opens his mouth, tries to ask, but the words die into nothing in his throat. Wonwoo’s presence is suddenly looming large over him, having taken a step towards Soonyoung, caging him against the side of the bridge. 

The moon is no longer in his eyes, face tipped downwards to accommodate the few centimeters of difference between them. And Soonyoung. Soonyoung is so so glad he’s not sober. Wonwoo this close is tempting, terrifying, too much. There’s want in his eyes, so much _want_ , drinking him in like he’ll never get the chance again. Soonyoung, he’s burning up.

He wants to chalk it up to the alcohol, the blasted soju warming his veins from the inside out, making his stomach queasy and his head hurt. He wants to blame it all on IU’s smiling face enticing him to drink more, say she’s the reason his heart is just about crawling out of his throat, why his fingers and toes are tingling and curling up into themselves, that the thought of her is what turns his stomach over on itself when Wonwoo leans down far enough to bump their foreheads together with the fondest smile and, no. He can’t blame it on anything else when he knows the truth, bubbling to the surface all too clear now that he’s at his most vulnerable. 

It’s been his fault all along: liking Jeon Wonwoo has been a terrible, _terrible_ life decision.

Wonwoo sighs and they’re close enough that Soonyoung can smell the charcoal on his breath, the peach overtones of the soju they knocked back together in an embarrassing love-shot at the goading of their sunbaes and the squeals of the girls.

“Kwon Soonyoung,” Wonwoo breathes, the hand resting on his cheek ghosting its thumb over the highest swell before pressing down gently, indenting itself into the soft flesh, "I - "

Wonwoo pauses. His Adam's Apple bobs a few times and then he's stepping away from Soonyoung, smiling wanly. It's cold suddenly.

"It's been awhile since I've done that," he sighs, something yearning and bitter built into his voice. The ends of his lips curl upwards after in a lopsided smile, "cute as always, huh, Soonyoungie."

"Okay." Soonyoung says and then proceeds to lean over the side rail and hurl ₩20,000's worth of unlimited meat to the fish. 

(It wouldn’t be the first time he’s wasted money over Wonwoo.)

He hopes they like _samgyupsal_.

//

Wonwoo is boring and got a Melona Bar like he always does. Soonyoung actually has ambitions when it comes to something as important as ice cream though and _he_ always gets something different - it’s kind of his goal to try every single ice cream there is from their local convenience store before they graduate from middle school. It does mean that he ends up with duds sometimes though, he thinks sullenly as he licks at his strawberry sundae.

“This doesn’t taste like strawberry at all,” He complains to Wonwoo, taking another sulky lick of it before it melts all over his hands. He kicks his legs back and forth from the top of the monkey bars, letting them dangle down, “try it.”

“If you’re complaining about it why do you think I’d like it?” Wonwoo shoots back at him from down below, pushing his glasses up whilst taking another lick of his Melona. Dang, Soonyoung wishes he’d gotten one now. 

“Because,” Soonyoung says, hooking his legs over the closest horizontal bar and letting himself down carefully, making sure his ice cream doesn’t tip upside down with him, “I’m good at sharing.”

“Well I’m not,” Wonwoo frowns, poking at Soonyoung’s cheek when Soonyoung opens his mouth wide for a bite. What a liar, Wonwoo is great at sharing, especially when Soonyoung bothers him into it. Comes with the territory of having a best friend, you just know what makes them tick and in this case, Soonyoung knows exactly what to do. He opens his mouth wide and makes an obnoxious _ah_ sound, dragging it out with all the air he has in his lungs. Predictable as always, Wonwoo relents after a few seconds, making a noise of complaint even as he waves his icecream near Soonyoung’s mouth to let him happily bite a chunk off.

“Here you can have mine too,” Soonyoung presses his ice cream into Wonwoo’s grip, swapping it for the Melona cheekily before pulling himself out of reach, back up on top of the monkey bars. Wonwoo’s face is priceless, caught between surprise and indignation and Soonyoung nearly falls off the playground with how hard he laughs.

“Come up here and get it if you want it back,” Soonyoung taunts, shoving the Melona Bar in his mouth and humming around it exaggeratedly, “delicious, thanks Wonwoo-goon.”

Wonwoo looks up at him and chokes like he's disgusted by the scene when he makes eye contact with Soonyoung. Well, okay understandable, Soonyoung did just cover the entire thing in his saliva after all. He even takes it out of his mouth again and drags his tongue up the bar just to make a show of it. See if Wonwoo wants it back now. 

“Stop that,” Wonwoo complains, swinging his beansprout body across the monkey bars so he can hook his skinny legs over them and pull himself up through the gap, coming face to face with Soonyoung. Somehow the strawberry ice cream is still perfectly upright in his hand. He pushes his glasses up and wraps his mouth around the swirl of ice cream, “we’re not meant to be here, you know.”

“Well we weren’t meant to skip hagwon either,” Soonyoung shrugs, biting off another piece of Melona and letting it melt slowly in his mouth, “it’s fine, barely any kids come around here when there’s that new playground they built in the other park.”

"That's true I guess," Wonwoo mumbles, taking another lick of his ice cream, eyes on the ground, "people move onto new things so fast."

Soonyoung eyes him warily. As much as he likes to brag about how he and Wonwoo are on the same wavelength so often, there are times he just doesn't know what goes on in Wonwoo's brain. This is one of them, "Are you okay Wonwoo-yah? Is this about your ice cream?"

"It's nothing," Wonwoo scrunches up his nose, eyebrows creasing into his thinking face, "I was just..." He trails off, taking another bite of his ice cream.

Soonyoung's not the most emotionally sensitive but he knows there are times where he should keep quiet, let others think. He scooches closer to Wonwoo on the yellow bars, careful not to let the ice cream drop from his mouth, nudges Wonwoo in the shoulder playfully to let him know he's there.

"What is it? You can tell me - I don't like seeing you sad you know. Is this about the crappy prize we got from the arcade?"

"That's not what you said when we got it," Wonwoo nudges him back, indignation alive in his eyes, "you said it was the most badass thing you'd ever seen!"

"Well," Soonyoung hedges, shrugging and taking the dinky little figurine out of his pocket. He'd lied, he knows that, but he doesn't really know the reason why. It's just a small plastic robot, bright yellow with little limbs you could move. It's cool but they could've gotten like three boxes of Kkokkal Corn for the same number of tickets they’d won. Maybe it has something to do with the way Wonwoo had taken to it immediately, picking it up from the shelf and making _pew pew_ noises with it like the nerd he is, "I mean, it's cool. Kinda cute. You can keep it though, I think omma will kill me if I keep clogging up the shelves with my stuff."

Wonwoo looks down at the robot held in Soonyoung's hand and snorts softly, shaking his head gently as he reaches out to curl Soonyoung's fingers around it, "No, you keep it. It's fine, if I take it home Bohyuk's gonna ruin it somehow."

"Bohyuk's not that bad," Soonyoung throws his head back, laughing. He finishes off the rest of the Melona, triumphantly pulling the popstick out of his mouth with a clean pop, "he's cute."

There’s a delayed pause before Wonwoo shakes himself out of some sort of stupor to respond.

"He's the worst," Wonwoo insists, making a grumpy noise like he does every time they have an argument like this, "it's only 'cause you don't live with him."

"I'd rather have a younger brother than have noona around," Soonyoung says, "you didn't get makeup smeared all over your face when you were a kid."

"You still need to show me pictures of that by the way," Wonwoo snickers, delighted at the reminder of Soonyoung's childhood black history, "or I'm just going to bribe noona into showing them to me. She likes me better anyways."

"Just 'cause you're - " Soonyoung starts out, heated, but then thinks better of it and shuts up. He doesn't want to inflate Wonwoo's ego more than he really needs it. Soonyoung swallows down the bitter feeling in his throat he doesn’t want to label. Best friend or not, Wonwoo doesn't need to be called handsome every hour of every day, he's sure there's more than enough people doing that already, "whatever. I'm gonna burn all the pictures when I get back."

"Sure," Wonwoo drawls, finishing off his ice cream too, "if you survive long enough."

"What do you - "

"We skipped hagwon remember," Wonwoo arches an eyebrow, smug and so so annoying, "how long do you think it'll take for your mum to find out."

"Oh fuck," Soonyoung curses. Shit, this had been such a good idea at the time but now, faced with the reality awaiting him when he gets back, he doesn't feel so good about it anymore, "why did you let me do this again?"

"If I remember correctly, you were the one who dragged me off as soon as school ended."

"Well, you should've stopped me!" Soonyoung bites out, petulant and childish to the end. He needs to make the most of his age whilst he can, after all. Noona keeps telling him that he won't be able to pull this off in high school, come next year. 

"Fine," Wonwoo rolls his eyes, reaching over to Soonyoung to collect the Melona stick from him so he can bundle it with the empty plastic covering he's holding in his own hand. He’d make a good boyfriend one day, Soonyoung thinks to himself aimlessly before forcefully scrubbing the thought out of his head, "next time I try to talk you out of something, I'm going to remind you of this though."

"This feels like blackmail," Soonyoung says, "I don't remember signing up for this when we became friends."

"You were the one who started it," Wonwoo shrugs, "it's all on you." 

"Dick."

"Dumbass."

"Punk."

Soonyoung sticks his tongue out at Wonwoo, all mature like, and anchors his knees tight around the bars before he's swinging himself down again, dangling upside down with all the blood rushing to his head. 

"Don't wanna go home," Soonyoung complains, letting the last vowel escape from his lungs in a drawn-out groan.

"We could run away instead," Wonwoo jumps down from the bars, landing softly like those cats he adores, leaving for a quick minute to chuck their trash into the bin before coming back. When Soonyoung opens his eyes, it's Wonwoo's face he sees above him, “together.”

"Very funny," Soonyoung rolls his eyes, ignoring the dizziness the blood rush is giving him, "we still have to graduate though, _omma's_ gonna cry otherwise."

Wonwoo takes his palms and sandwiches Soonyoung's face between them, pushing his cheeks together so his lips stick out like a fish. Wonwoo's amused grin is visible from Soonyoung's vantage point, stretches across his face so wide, and when Soonyoung plays along and moves his lips like a fish, it just makes Wonwoo giggle harder, nose scrunching up.

"Honestly," Wonwoo says, softening his grip on Soonyoung's face so he's just holding it between his hands than anything else, "I don't really want to graduate."

"At all?"

"I don't know," Wonwoo shrugs, pensive, "it just feels like things are going to change when we get to high school." 

"But we get to do cool things when we get to high school," Soonyoung objects, "Noona got a _boyfriend_ when she went to high school. Not that _omma_ knows though,"

Wonwoo just looks more constipated at the thought and Soonyoung briefly thinks back to all the gifts he got for Valentines this year. Stupid Wonwoo's probably worried about how many girls he's going to have to turn down in high school, Soonyoung thinks, chest suddenly all cramped up. He doesn’t really know what it means, feeling this shitty over the prospect of Wonwoo getting more popular. Maybe it’s just because he’s yet to catch up.

"I don't want to get a girlfriend though," Wonwoo says. Behind him, the sun is slowly starting to set, painting the sky a pretty orange and gold, "I don't want things to change."

"It's life," Soonyoung says, not really paying attention to what he's saying. The blood is really going to his head now: either he's gotta pull himself back upright or he’ll probably fall to the ground and Wonwoo will laugh at him, "things are always gonna change, right?"

"Right," Wonwoo says, soft like he's talking to himself, "maybe I'm just scared of the important things changing."

"Like what?" Soonyoung asks, blinking hard to keep his eyes clear. Like so many things, this was a bad idea. He's seriously gotta right himself soon.

" - us?"

"Huh?"

"Like um," Wonwoo looks off to the side then comes back to him, "our friendship. Or something. You're my best friend Soonyoungie.”

"Aww," Soonyoung feels his chest warm at that. He reaches up to take the bar in hand, swings himself up and drops to his feet, stumbling straight into Wonwoo and knocking him down to the ground from the dizziness the blood rush is giving him. It’s the spinning of his head he attributes it to when he dopily lifts a hand and pats Wonwoo’s cheek gently, leaning his head against Wonwoo’s skinny shoulder to stop the world moving, "that's so nice Wonwoo-goon. You should be nice like this more often. You're my best friend too."

"I'm always nice," Wonwoo scoffs but gone is the heavy pensiveness from earlier, replaced with something lighter. Happiness maybe. It sounds good, looks good on Wonwoo, "I think you're the person I know best, Soonyoung-ah." He hesitates for a second, catching Soonyoung’s wrist in his hand then pausing, looking at Soonyoung dumbly like he has no idea what to do. 

Soonyoung blinks blearily, opens his mouth to say something, and then promptly gets the air crushed out of his lungs as Wonwoo wraps his spindly arms around Soonyoung's middle and hugs him, seemingly not minding the fact that Soonyoung's probably crushing his body into the ground. 

"You know it'd be nice," Wonwoo says into his shoulder quietly, glasses digging into Soonyoung's flesh, "if we could stay like this forever."

Soonyoung finds his mouth dry; speechlessness doesn't come easy to him but of course it would be Jeon Wonwoo's fault when it does. 

"Yah, when did you get so sappy," Soonyoung says, ignoring the way his voice thickens up, "of course we're gonna be friends forever. That's not gonna change, Wonwoo-yah. Do you need a, I don’t know, pinky promise or something?"

"What are we," Wonwoo shoves him off, sitting up and groaning about how Soonyoung's so fucking heavy, not one bit of that sentimentality showing now, "in kindergarten?"

"Well fine, dickhead," Soonyoung feels his cheeks heat up, embarrassed, scrambling to match Wonwoo’s pose. 'Nice' Wonwoo just does not exist, "look I'll - I'll swear on the figurine we got." He digs it out of his pocket again, picks off the lint caught on one of its little arms. "Here, I swear on this that Jeon Wonwoo and I will be friends forever!"

He thrusts the figure out to Wonwoo, waiting expectantly to hear the same thing.

"This is so cringy," Wonwoo crosses his arms, hunching in on himself a little, but he takes the figurine from Soonyoung anyways, toying with one of its arms, "I - I swear that Kwon Soonyoung and I will be friends forever."

"Great," Soonyoung nods assertively, "done. See Wonwoo-yah, nothing's gonna change!"

"I don't know," Wonwoo mumbles, making the little yellow robot do a high kick, "this still feels so childish."

Says the boy playing with a robot toy, Soonyoung wants to snark but swallows it down, huffing, "Well what's the grown up version then?"

"I dunno, my cousin Seulgi's in high school and she always says you gotta seal promises with a kiss."

"You want a kiss?"

"I didn't say that - "

"Fine," Soonyoung shrugs, pushing past the embarrassment heating up the tips of his ears, looking around to make sure no one's walking by before he slams his eyes shut and leans forwards, planting a kiss somewhere on Wonwoo's lips. It's quick, barely there really and he nearly gets Wonwoo's nose instead but there's something victorious and giddy swelling up in him at the look on Wonwoo's face when he pulls back. He chalks it up to getting one up on Wonwoo, a rare occurrence these days, "happy?"

"I - " Wonwoo licks his lips, eyes wide behind his silver rims, "I meant the figurine though?"

"Oh," Soonyoung blanches and just about snatches it from Wonwoo's grip, shoving it carelessly into his pocket, clumsy with humiliation, "whatever. A kiss is a kiss, dumbass."

"Soonyoung-ah - "

"I'm going home now," Soonyoung blurts out, consumed with some weird swirl of shame and terror in his chest overcoming that brief happiness. Everything feels a little off balance and he wants his blankets and hamster plushie, "I'll see you at school tomorrow if my mum doesn't kill me."

And then he runs.

//

“Um,” Wonwoo says, shifting around nervously on his doorstep, pushing up his glasses, “hi.”

“Hi.” Soonyoung says flatly, “and bye.” 

And then he shuts the door in his face.

“Soonyoung,” Wonwoo’s voice comes, accompanying the rapping at his door, “Soonyoung, just - just give me five minutes.”

“Why should I,” Soonyoung replies, scowling at the closed door before realising that he’s paying Wonwoo more attention than the other is actually warranted, turning back to his homework. He’s never been so on top of classwork before, all his energy channelled into studying, exhausting himself so he doesn’t have any energy to feel sad or regretful, cutting Wonwoo out of his life again, I think I made myself clear last time.”

“You did,” Wonwoo calls from outside and Soonyougn doesn’t want to project but Wonwoo sounds… tired. Just as tired and miserable as he is, “you did, but I didn’t get to say my piece.” 

Soonyoung scoffs and doesn’t deign to answer, already reaching for his earphones. Isn’t that just typical, always insisting on the last word. 

“Soonyoung _please_ ,” Wonwoo raps on his door again, an increasing tempo, “Soonyoung, come on, I’m not leaving until you open up. I can’t - I’m not going to lose you again, alright? Once was enough.”

“Seriously?” Soonyoung says, stomping over and yanking open the door before he can stop himself, “What is your _problem_ with me, Jeon Wonwoo?”

Wonwoo looks up at him from where he’s seated just outside Soonyoung’s door, looking all too much like he was actually serious about not leaving. His eyes are red-rimmed, exhausted, and it fucking sucks that the sight of him looking like a kicked kitten still tugs at Soonyoung’s traiterous heartstrings.

A muscle in Soonyoung’s jaw ticks.

“You have five minutes,” he says testily, “if you don’t get out after that, I’m calling Myungho over to kick your ass.”

“Fine,” Wonwoo says, scrambling to his legs and trailing in after Soonyoung, looking painfully lost and adorable like he could never do any damage at all. Looks are deceiving, isn’t that what they always say, “fine. Five minutes.”

Soonyoung wordlessly points to his desk chair and Wonwoo sinks down into it without protesting, scrubbing over his face with both his hands, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. Soonyoung stays standing, crossing his arms as he leans against his bookshelf.

“I,” Wonwoo says, staring at the ground, “haven’t been a very good friend to you.”

“No shit,” Soonyoung says, “I had no idea.”

Wonwoo squints up at him but doesn’t say a word about his sarcasm, just breathes in deep like he’s controlling himself and continues on.

“I haven’t been a very good friend,” he says, “because I didn’t want you as a friend.”

Soonyoung blinks, face screwing up into a mix of confusion and indignation, “Then just leave - “

“I didn’t want you as a friend,” Wonwoo grits his teeth, talking over Soonyoung and raising his eyes to meet Soonyoung’s disbelieving ones, “because I liked you as _more_ than a friend. I’ve liked you that way for a long time and I haven’t been fair to you because of it. I know I was selfish towards you in highschool, selfish because I wanted you for myself and didn’t want to share.” He laughs dryly, “Seungcheol-hyung thought you were a cute kid y’know, but I didn’t want to lose you to him. I didn’t realise,” he purses his lips, “I didn’t realise that by pushing him away from you I was pushing myself away too and by then it was too late.”

“You - “ Soonyoung’s throat is tight, practically choking his words out, “so what, Wonwoo. What’s the point in saying this now? It’s not going to change anything, you know. Just because you used to have a crush on me - “

“It’s not ‘used’.” Wonwoo corrects him, biting down so hard on his lower lip that it might bleed, “It’s not past tense. I do. I do have a crush on you, Soonyoung-ah. No, scratch that.” He looks up, eyes big and lost, “Soonyoung-ah, I’m in fucking love with you.”

All of a sudden, Soonyoung doesn’t quite remember how to breathe. 

Wonwoo goes on, nails digging into his own flesh, leaving bone white crescents behind, “You have no idea how happy I was when we got paired up for the project. I - I know I joked that it was fate that had given us a second chance but to me, it was like a miracle.” He barks out a laugh, wrapping his arms around himself like a hug, looking everything unlike the momentous intimidating image Soonyoung’s built for him in his head over the years and more like the small boy peeking out behind his mother’s legs when they’d first met when everything was uncomplicated and simple.

“I know I sound pathetic,” Wonwoo says, voice tiny, “but I figure that if you really wanted to cut things off this time, I might as well come clean right?” He smiles up at Soonyoung, his best approximation of it at least, but his voice is shaky, “Nothing else to lose and all that.”

He pauses for a second, studying Soonyoung’s face and evidently doesn’t find what he wants there because he deflates even more, hunching into himself and getting to his feet, “Right, yeah, okay, five minutes are probably up. I’ll just - I’m sorry, Soonyoung, I’ll - “

“How long,” Soonyoung says, finding his voice right before Wonwoo can shuffle out the door, “how long have you liked me, Wonwoo-yah?”

“God,” Wonwoo breathes out, turning around to look at him with so much emotion glimmering in his eyes Soonyoung momentarily forgets to breathe. His smile is small and watery when he says, “I feel like it’d be easier to identify how long I haven’t been in love with you.”

“Give me something concrete,” Soonyoung says, even though he knows he’s pushing, maybe edging on the verge of cruel, “end of highschool? Start of highschool? Middle school?”

“Well, who do you think left the chocolate on your desk?” 

Wonwoo laughs, genuine mirth lightening him up at the sight of Soonyoung’s stunned expression, puzzle pieces slowly coming together, “Yeah, my mum scolded me when I got home. Apparently ripping open the packaging with your teeth instead of using scissors isn’t a good idea. In my defence though, I was opening it in the bathroom. I didn’t really have anything else.”

“You never said it was you,” Soonyoung says, half accusatory and half disbelieving still, “I just thought it was someone pitying me.”

“Look, I was an impressionable kid,” Wonwoo shrugs, smiling crookedly, “you said anonymous confessions were romantic so I tried my best.”

“Yeah well I was a stupid kid too,” Soonyoung splutters, emotions starting to well up in his chest thinking about all their miscommunications over the years, “who the fuck would take me seriously at that age?”

“Me apparently,” Wonwoo says, scratching his head sheepishly, “in case we haven’t established, I wasn’t the smartest kid either.”

“You’re still not the smartest kid,” Soonyoung sniffs, throat heavy with snot and oh, his face is wet, when did he start fucking crying, “You’re so stupid Wonwoo-goon, you utter dumbass.”

“I,” Wonwoo peers at his face in concern, carefully approaching him like he would an injured stray. He wraps his hands in his too-long sleeves and dips his head down, tender in the way he dabs away Soonyoung’s tears, “Soonyoung-ah…”

“You fucking better be the best boyfriend to make up for all this shit you put me through,” Soonyoung punches him in the chest, no strength behind it, burying his face in Wonwoo’s shoulder right after, taking the liberty to wail into the soft fabric, “you’re gonna be paying for my shit for the rest of our lives.”

“If it’s the rest of our lives,” Wonwoo says quietly, wrapping his arms around Soonyoung and holding him close, dropping a kiss to the top of his head, “then I don’t mind.”

//

“You’ll be doing this in pairs and I trust you’re old enough to organise them yourself - “

The whole lecture hall fills with murmurs, drowning out the professor’s voice.

Soonyoung looks to his left, looks to his right. Bites back a curse under his breath.

Fuck his shitty luck, he’s never coming early to class again. He should’ve realised it earlier; getting the middle seat is the worst since everyone’s just partnered up with the person next to them already. Guess his only choice is the guy in front of him, looking like he’s in the same situation. 

He hates doing this, partnering with strangers because he doesn’t know them, whether they’ll pull their weight or leave Soonyoung to flounder in his perfectionist tendencies screaming for him to just do all the work instead. There’s no way he can escape this though - this partnered project is 40% of their grade and he _needs_ this credit if he wants to graduate. God, he really hopes his partner will actually know shit about the history part of this course; he’s alright with the economic half of it, numbers and equations and formulas making sense to him, but wrapping his head around dates, times and events is actually the worst. 

Muttering a quick prayer under his breath and crossing his fingers for luck, he leans forward over his laptop and taps the guy in front of him on the shoulder, friendliest smile at the ready.

"Hey do you need a partner - "

And oh. Oh no.

Lady Luck, Goddess of Fate, Man on the Moon, who-fucking-ever must fucking loathe him because of all the people in this course, in this university, in Seoul, in South Korea, in the fucking _world._

It's Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo. 

The same mop of black hair, silver rims seated perfect on that high nose. 

And suddenly Soonyoung's launched back into highschool again.

"Hey," Wonwoo says after a pause, composed and casual like they're just acquaintances bumping into each other again after a while, "so we have history together."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> many many thanks to the mod for being so considerate of my other deadlines (ilu!!!), the sagc, and of course my lovely [artist](https://twitter.com/mintyhaos) (who also had to put up with my other deadlines TTT) whose art is above and you can also find (and leave nice comments and likes on!!) [here](https://t.co/oItnZQwPqL?amp=1), [here](https://t.co/IRrV41uz4y?amp=1), and [here](https://t.co/DkcUo0aXZc?amp=1) !!
> 
> it's one of my first attempts playing with this style and so i hope you enjoyed reading it and it wasn't too confusing ^_^ i put some effort into ordering the scenes a certain way and i hope that pays off if you read the fic again a second time~ 
> 
> any and all kudos and comments appreciated, thank you for reading!


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